Why Her?
by Papery
Summary: "You want your daughter back?" Cesare asked, dangling Elia's freedom on a string in front of Ezio's face. "You know what the arrangement is." Rated T for suggestive themes and such. Click for more of a summary! :D
1. Carnevale Chiaro di Luna

**A/N: So this is my first update in a loooong time. This story's been bumming around my laptop for quite some time now...it started out as an English project and then morphed into a full on fic. Uhhh I'm no good at intros and author's notes and such. Nor am I good at summaries. So, I apologize. but please, stay, read, and enjoy! Also, listen to Ezio's Family while you read this, I feel like it matches rather well :D**

**Thanks for reading~**

"Good work today, Elia," Ezio nodded and looked down at his apprentice. Elia pulled down her hood and mask, face lit up with a beaming smile as she looked up at the master assassin. He held out a small pouch and dropped it into the young girl's outstretched palm. She opened it and peered inside, jumping excitedly at the pile of coins pooled inside.

"Oh, thank you papa!" Elia cried, pulling the drawstrings of the pouch and tucking the payment into a pocket of her robes. She turned to run off into the city when she felt Ezio grab her shoulder.

"Wait a moment," He ordered, looking at her sternly, "Don't go do something stupid on your time off, Elia. I _will_ find out if you do. That includes going to the carnival." Elia put a sweet smile on her face, nodding to show that she had understood what her father told her, moving to leave once again when the assassin let her go.

"I am just going to buy a few things, do not worry about me!" She got on her toes and placed a kiss on her father's cheek before running off, leaping up and climbing a wall that surrounded the courtyard. She crouched on the roof of the building, lifting her hand in farewell, pulling up her hood and mask and turning. She began to run across the tiled rooftops, their click like music to her ears. There was one place she wanted to go—daddy dear would not have let her go, but she wasn't about to listen to his orders.

The music reached her ears before she got very close to the _Carnevale Chiaro di Luna._ The Moonlight Carnival. It was her favorite time of the year, but this time around, as she looked down on the festivities and lights, her face wasn't lit up with a smile. Every year her father would bring her into the middle of Roma for celebration; he put all of his missions on hold just so they could go together.

This year, however, the carnival was different. Guards hovered everywhere on the ground, snapping up thieves and courtesans—anyone who seemed to be disrupting the festivities. Even outside of the carnival the guards were more plentiful than usual. Ezio had dropped the news that no one was allowed to the carnival several weeks ago at a meeting. The carnival was a popular event among the novices. Elia was dying to know why her father had put the ban in place—and it had taken her nearly two weeks of eavesdropping to finally hear of the alarming rate of assassins being taken, tortured and killed by the Borgia.

So Ezio had forbidden her and any other assassin, courtesan under his sister's roof or thief that they commanded to go to the carnival this year. The place was swarming with guards; some were even disguised as civilians and carnival actors. The master assassin was not about to take the risk of losing anyone else when it was preventable.

Elia smirked to herself then. And daddy had expected her to actually follow his rules! She wasn't dumb; she knew the guards were there. She had been snagged before, but she had always gotten free. Not once had she had a problem with guards, so why had her father objected to her going this year?

She had been sitting up here long enough. After a quick look around she slipped off the roof and clambered down the wall, dropping five feet into an alcove after pulling down her hood and face cover. She took a moment to fix her unruly hair into a braid and stepped out into the crowded square. After looking around for only a few moments, she grinned and made a beeline for a small but colorful stall selling masks. Brightly colored ones, metallic ones, dull ones, silky and decorated ones. Elia's eyes sparkled as she looked at each and every different disguise. She'd noticed many people wearing them as she'd peered down from the rooftop and figured, what better way to blend than with a mask?

After several minutes of browsing the massive collection of masks, Elia picked out a one that covered her forehead down to her cheekbones. It was made out of silky green fabric and came to a point on either end, short feathers dyed to match the color of the silk fanning out from the outside edges of the mask. Elia paid out the 100 florins that the item cost and nodded her thanks to the merchant as she pulled the mask onto her face.

She melted back into the crowd, looking at every attraction and stall that was open. A group of acrobats sailing through the air and balancing at impossible heights here, and a magician making fireworks fly from his hands over there. Behind her, a stall with delicious smelling baked sweets. Elia was simply delighted. The full moon high above and the fires and fireworks going off in every direction lit up her face. She felt as if she'd eat herself to death each time she walked away from a stall selling food. Soon enough, her coin purse was significantly lighter than it had been at the beginning. Looking around, Elia grinned to herself. Pick pocketing was a snap; so why not pilfer some funds from the unsuspecting civilians walking around the fair?

Passing by a fat man with his hand clutching an expensive looking jeweled mask, Elia casually bumped into the fellow, snatching up his disappointingly light purse and stashing it in her robes. A woman dressed in an elegant dress passed by her and was similarly treated. After several minutes of stealing money, Elia picked an empty bench to sit down on and look through her payout.

"Six hundred and thirty nine florins..." She murmured, content with the amount before slipping it all into her purse and dropping the empty pouches on the ground. She brushed off the front of her robes, removing scraps of velvet left behind by one of the purses and a small amount of dirt.

"Excuse me, miss," The voice startled Elia and she froze in the middle of brushing down her thighs. Slowly, she looked up to stare into the face of a normal looking citizen. When she looked carefully, however, she was able to see the faint outline of some sort of weapon concealed beneath his vest. The young assassin swallowed, eyeing the man in front of her with suspicion. Her eyes darted to the emptied purses at her feet, then to either side of the man in front of her. Behind her was a wall that would be a challenge for her to climb; there were few windows and ledges to grab onto, mostly just smooth, stone blocks.

She was sure that she could make a break for it, if she had to. It took her several moments before she realized the man in front of her was speaking.

"I believe this belongs to you, dear," He said with a kindly smile. In his hand was a small packet of sweets that she'd bought only minutes ago and as she patted at her side to confirm the object was missing, relief spread through her.

"Thank you, sir. I hadn't noticed I'd lost it! It's a gift for…for my father," She smiled up at him and took back the candies, sticking them back where she had put them to begin with before nodding politely at the stranger and side stepping around him to take off into the crowd once more. Her was purse once again heavy with money to buy things with and she had a gift for her father when she returned; surely he wouldn't be mad when he had his favorite sweets to eat.

Hours had passed, Elia was sure. She'd exhausted all of her money once again and was full with sweet foods, her robes heavy with left over treats and various trinkets she'd decided she wanted to buy.

"Just a little more money, and then I'll be done for the night…" She smiled at a younger man passing by her, bumping into him and managing to steal his purse without any trouble. She stumbled back a bit when she heard a muffled thud and looked down to see the book he'd been clutching resting open on the ground.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" She said, bending down to pick it up. Her heart nearly stopped when she felt cold metal pressed lightly against her neck, her heartbeat suddenly speeding up as he whispered into her ear, "I know what you are…assassin," Elia made a move to duck and run off. She bit her lip in pain when the man's hand closed around her hair, forcing her to stand up straight and look the man in his eyes. She was breathing through her teeth when she finally noticed the sword strapped to his hip.

"You coward scum," She spat at the man, grabbing the wrist of the hand that held her hair so painfully in the hopes that she would be able to lessen it. In response, the man jerked his hand and made her hiss through her teeth, biting back a cry of pain.

"Oh? Says the slime that hides in the shadows, killing our people without rhyme or reason," He paused, bringing his face uncomfortably close to Elia's. She turned away as best as she could, making a face of disgust at his words.

"You're nothing but a coward, you and all your guard. We only fight in the interest of the people. You know very well how your men treat those who do not do as your _wonderful_ leader says," Elia felt the metal of the man's dagger press into her neck, straining away from his hold,

"Do not talk of Cesare Borgia in that way, _assassino_," he hissed, glaring for a moment at her before he whistled sharply, drawing four more guards dressed in armor out from the thick crowd of people. Two guards grabbed Elia roughly by her arms while the man dressed in civilian clothes released her. He barked orders to the four and took off through the crowd, shoving the civilians roughly out of the way and making room for the guards to drag Elia through.

"You won't be able to keep me for long, you know!" She snarled, turning her head from side to side to glare at the two men holding her up by her arms. The guards just laughed, dragging her along. Elia frowned, glad that she still had her mask on. She didn't like her identity being known by the enemy. Even the thought of that made her nervous.


	2. Bargaining Chip

**A/N: Because you guys are SO FREAKING AMAZING AND WONDERFUL, you get chapter two tonight. Thank you for the reviews! And the views! And everything! Seriously, it means SO MUCH to me, because this is the first really successful story I've put up. Lets see if I can get to 10 reviews after this chapter maybe?**

**Now, this one's a little cruel and evil. And also where the T rating comes into play, so just a forewarning. I typed up the midle as an edit, so there's a good chance this chapter will be modified slightly just to make it more coherent. Regardless, please do read, review and enjoy!**

**EDIT!: I made a few changes that make it more clear where paragraphs begin and end. I also fixed a few grammar and spelling errors. Also, I watched the Revelations trailers for the first time today. I have to say...I can't freaking WAIT until November. I mean, this game looks great. I'm super excited. Also, to Beach Vampire 17, I never did really say, but she's about 17. I'd say Ezio is in his late 40's at this point. I also have a new favorite song! Iron, by Woodkid. If you haven't seen the trailer, do it and listen to that song!**

0000000000

Elia stumbled to a halt, trying to wrench herself free from the iron like grip of the guards, but to no avail. She was exhausted; she'd been fighting their pull the entire way, and now, after her final attempt to free herself the assassin settled for spitting on the shoes of the guards on either side of her. She'd get her chance to escape soon enough.

"Take the mask off, it's bothering me," said the man dressed in civilian clothing, making Elia suck in a breath, eyes narrowing behind the green satin mask.

"Don't touch it." She hissed, the tone in her voice dangerous. The man laughed briefly, motioning to one of the guards beside him.

The guard stepped forward and reached to untie the ribbon the held the mask to her face—the young assassin glared at him snapped at his hand when it got too close. He flinched away and swore angrily, reaching forward again and grabbing her roughly on the jaw before he pulled the mask from her face. It was to the ground and the guard brought his foot down on it, moving back to his previous position to the side of the other guards afterward. Elia flinched, staring at the crumpled mess that was left behind. Her face fell as she took it in—she'd liked that mask quite a bit, and now it was ruined. Not to mention it wasn't cheap. She looked up and glared heatedly at the man who she assumed was the leader of this group of damned guards.

He had turned to look at her now and something like recognition flashed across his face. Elia felt her stomach turn over as a wicked grin split the man's face.

"Do you know who this is, boys?" He crowed, crossing his arms and looking around at his men. The all took as good of a look at Elia's face as they could, shaking their heads slowly after a moment.

"Who is it, sir?" One of them asked their leader.

"Elia Auditore." Those two words made Elia shiver with dread, regretting ever breaking her father's rules. Until now, she was fully confident in her ability to escape from these men, but a sliver of doubt wormed its way into her mind. She looked back and forth between the men who held her and the man who she assumed was a Borgia captain

"I think we've got ourselves a nice bargaining chip, men. Throw her in the Vatican's prison. It's not too far a walk from here. I'm going to compose a letter to signore Auditore." The Borgia captain spoke dismissively, waving his hand in the direction of the exit of the building as he turned to go into another room. "Perhaps he needs to be informed of what he's missing." Elia began to struggle again, growing panic giving her a small amount of strength.

"W-wait, no, I'm not—" She spoke until a gloved hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shut up, scum," he hissed, "You're lucky to be alive at all."

Elia swallowed, her throat dry, knowing full well that his words were true.

0000000000

"Get her!" Howled a rooftop soldier, his pounding footsteps urging Elia to run faster. She stole a glance behind her, eyes widening as she noticed more guards chasing her behind the original one on the roof. Looking to the streets below she spotted three of the original guards who she had escaped from—the fourth was, as far as she was aware, laying with his neck severed nearly in half in the middle of the street.

_I will not let them catch me again!_ She told herself firmly, using all of her strength to run up a wall and climb it. If she made it to the water, she could swim away—guards couldn't swim, and their useless rock throwing did not concern her. She strained herself to climb faster as the guards caught up to the base of the tower she was climbing. She flinched instinctively as several rocks chipped the stones beside and below her. She spared a glance downward and then doubled her efforts of climbing the tower when the rest of the guards caught up to the tower. Her breath was coming out in ragged gasps as she pushed herself harder than she knew she would be able to handle for long.

A sharp pain seared through Elia's arm, and then her back. She heart shouts of excitement from the guards below as her grip on the wall loosened and she began to drop. She felt her stomach drop and reached desperately for another handold. After dropping several meters, she grabbed hold of a windowsill and pressed herself as close to the wall of the tower as she could.

"Give it up, kiddo! You've got nowhere to go!" Called a man from below. Elia scowled and snarled down at him, "Go jump off the aqueduct and die!" She immediately regretted the decision to retorting when she felt a sharp pain between her shoulder blades. Dust and slivers of stone blinded her as another rock collided with the wall close to her head, and a final stone struck her left hand, making her lose her grip and fall.

Blinded, Elia fell without hope of regaining her grip on the wall to the ground below her. The impact with the ground made her yell out in agony—she twisted into a ball and bit her own arm to contain any more cries of pain. She had definitely broken some sort of bone, or at the very least bruised several, although she was unable to tell. The thought of the injury paled, however, as she felt several hands roughly pulling her to her feet and holding her in an uncomfortable position. One of the men elbowed her in the ribs and she was unable to hold back a scream of pain. She pitched forward, unaware that she was now sobbing from the agony that radiated from the broken ribs on her right side.

"Oh, damn, we broke it." Chuckled one of the guards, gripping her hair and pulling her head back so he could speak directly to her, "You lose, sweetheart. Things might've been better for you if you'd gone quietly." Elia was having trouble focusing on the words that were coming from his mouth—all she was able to process was the constant pain coming from her side. Soon enough, even that became too much. She welcomed the darkness that enveloped her senses, however—it was so much better than facing the hell that was going to come.

0000000000

Elia sat with her knees pressed to her forehead, tears leaking silently down her face. Ezio had been right. He had been completely, utterly right—as he usually was. Why had she thought that she was so invincible that she could make it through the night without a scratch? Why didn't she just accept that Ezio—a _master assassin_—knew much more about this city than she did?

She took in an angry, shaky breath, balling her hands up and rubbing her eyes viciously to remove evidence of the tears. She would stick this out, and she would do it with no more sign of weakness. She would escape. She would _survive_. The sound of footsteps made her head snap up, breaking her from her thoughts. The sight of who approached her cell made her all but retch in disgust.

"I heard we had a valuable bargaining token on our side…I did not expect to see the assassin's _daughter_." Cesare Borgia's narrowed eyes rested on Elia as she stood and walked up to the bars of the prison cell, baring her teeth in disgust.

"You're scum, Borgia. Scum from the bottom of the deepest, darkest, must filth-ridden well. Does it feel nice to know the only woman you'll ever fuck is your sister?" The sneer on her face was wiped away when Cesare spat on it, causing her to reel back and frantically wipe the filth off her face.

"You're lucky I need you intact for your daddy, darling, or else your tongue would have been cut out the moment you foul mouthed my guards." Elia grinned wickedly.

"It looks like you're stuck with the female version of Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Borgia." She said his name in the most hateful tone she could muster, "Enjoy it, you incestuous bitch." Her words dripped with loathing and disgust so thick, Elia could nearly taste it herself. Cesare stared at the young assassin for several seconds. He then grinned in such a way that made a tingle of fear slide down her spine.

"She's all yours, boys," the Borgia man called to the guards who stood at attention near the entrance of the room. They turned their heads, exchanging glances in confusion.

"Go on, go enjoy yourselves. The assassin won't receive the letter for quite a while now…" Elia backed up several steps to press her back against the stone of her cell as she began to understand what Borgia was implying.

The guards exchanged a look that made the color drain from her face. A chuckle breached Cesare's throat, echoing eerily through the damp room.

"If you're anything like your father, dear," He began, walking away as the two guards slowly approached her cell, "you'll enjoy this." Elia's breathing hitched up as panic began to cloud any clever or coherent thought away. She slid to the floor, her eyes wide with fear. Her knees pressed into her chest, her bruised ribs making her gasp in pain. She desperately wished she could shut out the grating sound of metal against metal as the door to her cell opened and the two men approached her with grins that twisted her stomach into painful knots. Fear, pain, and a desperate need to block out the world brought the girl to squeeze her eyes shut, praying silently in her head.

_Oh, god, Ezio, please get here soon._


	3. Two More Days

**A/N: Hooooooly shit, guys. 4 thousand words. What a freaking monster. Well, because I made you wait so long for this chapter I figured you should get a big one. I actually just sorta added this into the story-originally, Elia would have only been at the Castel Sant'Angelo only for one night, but I was having fun with this story so I decided to drag it out a little.  
>Unfortunately, this chapter kind of turned out to be filler-esque. So I apologize for that...but I hope you enjoy it anyway!<strong>

**Once again, thank you for the reviews, views and such! I serious love you all so much for it QAQ if it wasn't for you, this story wouldn't have gotten worked on so much and would probably still be rotting on my hard drive. Lets see if we can get to 20 reviews after this chapter maybe? :D**

**Now, here you go! Ennnjoy :)**

0000000000

Elia sat with her back pressed into the corner of her cell. Her throat was raspy and sore, her cheeks stained with the salty tracks of dried tears. She felt sore in a way she had never felt before. She felt _disgusting_ in a way she had never felt before. A shiver squirmed down her spine and her entire body shuddered. Whether from the cold or the thoughts inside of her head, the assassin didn't know. She didn't care. She just wanted her father—she didn't care how long it took, as long as he got here and he took her away. She would never disobey him again. She would work her ass off for as long as it took, do everything he told her to without protest. She would be a perfect angel.

The young assassin took in a shuddering breath, attempting once more to settle her rattled, terrified and broken mind. She was no longer being guarded, though they had reasoned that she wasn't in any need to be in her current traumatized state. They were right.

It took her quite some time, but Elia finally mustered up the will to haul herself to her feet, wincing at the growing pain she had in her side from when one of the two guards had kicked her. She was fairly certain she'd broken a rib—it hurt a lot more than when she'd fallen earlier. She leaned up against the bars of the cell, sliding down them so she was sitting on the ground once again.

_ I'm not going to cry_, She thought firmly, letting her forehead balance against the cool metal bars of the cell. She closed her eyes for a moment, forcing her breathing to calm and her body to relax. The cool metal felt wonderful against her flushed face, and although she thought she was in too much pain to sleep, it took her only moments to pass out.

0000000000

Elia's head was pounding when she was jolted awake by a sharp _clank-clank-clank-clank _of the butt of a sword. The vibrations and noise made her head pound agonizingly and it was all Elia could do not to groan in pain.  
>"Get your ass up, assassin." Growled a guard, wrenching open the door to the cell and dragging Elia roughly to her feet. She gasped as pain radiated throughout her ribcage, eyes watering and tears leaking down her face despite vicious orders against crying bouncing around inside her mind.<p>

"I thought assassins were tough." The man muttered, dragging Elia out of the prison and lashing her wrists together much more tightly than was really necessary. Elia felt her stomach rumble and she glanced down, stumbling several steps before being yanked none too gently back upright.

"Hungry, eh?" The guard asked, shoving her forward and towards the flight of stairs that led out of the cellar of the castle. "Too bad." He finished with a toothy grin. Elia frowned, wincing slightly as her headache spiked at the movement of her facial muscles.

"Where am I going?" She hissed through pain-clenched teeth, doing her best to ignore the claws that tore at her hungry stomach.

"To see Cesare. He has some things he needs you to do for him." Elia forced the alarm she felt not to show on her face.

"Like what?" She asked.

The guard's silence spoke volumes.

"You can't make me do anything." She spat, although she was sure her words held more certainty than she felt.

"I'm sure signore Borgia can fix that," The guard wrenched her down a hallway, making her ribs explode in agony. Elia clamped her mouth shut, nearly biting off a section of her cheek to keep from crying out.

Once more she prayed that her father would rescue her soon—but with each passing hour, she believed less and less that he would.

0000000000

The door slammed shut behind her and she stood in the dim light of what looked to be a very decorated office. Elia was clueless as to what to do next, however.

"Come, sit here." The sudden voice made her jump and wince—this headache that pounded against her skull like a hammer was starting to get on her nerves. The guards at her sides began to walk forward, removing any option of careful consideration and thought as she was shoved with force to sit in a chair in front of the desk. She had to sit up completely straight in order to keep from crushing her hands. Not that it would make too much difference—they were beginning to loose feeling thanks to how tight the ropes holding them together had been tied. Dragging her thoughts from her hands, Elia focused on glaring across the desk at the man who sat at it.

"Whatever you want from me, you're not getting it," She hissed before Cesare even opened his mouth to speak. He smiled slightly and laughed, leaning forward with his hands clasped and elbows on the desk.

"All I want is your handwriting, sweetheart," He said calmly. Elia stood up so fast that the chair tipped over, leaning over so her face was inches from Cesare's, her teeth bared in defiance and hatred. The guards moved to hold her back, but a look from their leader made them pause.

"Do _not_ call me 'sweetheart' you sick son of a bitch," she snarled, her anger only growing when he leaned back and grinned. This man was an infuriating bastard, for sure.

"Feisty, eh?" he paused as he stood from his chair, Elia watching him with narrowed eyes as he walked around his desk. She turned around defensively as he came up behind her, attempting to take a step away from him but running into his desk instead.

"Turn around, unless you want to lose the use of your hands," He said calmly. His patience and lack of reaction to her hate enraged Elia, but she carefully turned, keeping her head turned so she could watch the Borgia man out of the corner of her eye. Elia bit back a sigh of relief as tingling warmth spread into her hands at last.

She felt nervous and uncomfortable being so close to Cesare and so the moment she had the chance, Elia sidestepped away from him and then around to the other side of his desk. She glanced toward the door, calculating the distance and considering making a break for it.

"What do you need my handwriting for?" She asked with her eyes still on the door. The moment she took a step closer to it, however, the guards stepped into her line of escape. Elia scowled and looked down at Cesare's desk to avoid looking at the haughty looks on the faces of her enemies.

"You don't need to know that," Cesare replied evenly, making her fists clench. Something on the desk caught her eye, and as she looked up to reply, she carefully swiped it into her right hand.

"Tell me, or you don't get shit, Borgia." She spat back. Cesare shrugged as he walked slowly, casually back to his chair. Elia skirted around the piece of furniture to where she'd been sitting previously.

"You're not in a place to be making demands, now, are you?" Elia had righted her chair and was now sitting in it once more, keeping her hand closed tightly around a short, dull knife (used to open letters, Elia guessed). The guards were looking around the room, probably bored and disinterested in the conversation going on between assassin and general.

Elia took this chance. Without warning, she jumped to her feet and brought her knee up on Cesare's desk, intending to stab him through the neck with the weapon. Cesare drew his sword and had its point at her throat before she even drew her arm back to strike. The guards, jolted into action by her sudden movement, drew their swords and pressed them against the small of her back. Elia swallowed and looked down her nose at the steel of the blade that drew a small amount of blood from her throat, not daring to move while Cesare spoke.

"I've been commanding an army and conquering others for several years, darling. I know my way around interrogation and getting what I need. Are you sure you'd like to test me?" Elia swallowed nervously once more, her thoughts going to the ache in her ribs and the pain of her hair having been nearly ripped from her skull earlier. Already she was beginning to weaken. Mentally, she was sure she could hold out, but eventually physical pain would break that. She had heard of torture methods used by the Borgia—whether from stories whispered by the recruits or firsthand by some extremely unlucky assassins—and was far from enthusiastic on experiencing them for herself.

"Well, if you need me to write something, I'll need to know what it is I'm going to be writing, don't I?" She finally snarled, using loathing to cover the apprehension she truly felt. Cesare slowly lowered and then sheathed his sword and plastered a pleasant smile on his face once more—Elia thought it looked more like a sneer than anything.

Before he spoke, he gestured for her to put the letter opener on his desk, which after some prodding from the guard's swords, she did.

"I had my sister write a letter to your father," He began. Elia's blood ran cold at the mention of her father, and she suddenly felt a deep longing to at least see even just his face again. "I had her write up something that would put his mind at ease for a day or two, using an excuse she thought would fit someone like you. All I need is you to sign this letter with your name," He grinned when Elia visibly tensed. Her emotions were conflicting—anger that Cesare had the nerve to make her do this, but fear of what these next few days would bring.

"And if I don't?" She asked him. His baleful expression made her mouth go dry.

"Well, see, sweetheart," Where the 'endearing' term would have made her anger boil over, Elia only fellow hollowness, "my guards sometimes have free time and nothing to spend it on. I know there's a few that would enjoy using some of the fun toys I have for people like you…" Elia glanced nervously at the coiled whip Cesare placed casually on the desk, then back at his sinister, grinning face. The two guards that were in the room seemed more interested in their talk at this point. Elia looked to her right at the two men without moving her head, then back at Cesare before she finally made her decision.

"Give me something to write with, then." She said quietly.

"Gladly." The general purred, satisfied. He pulled a letter, feather and ink from his desk, the pleased look on his face making Elia all but gag. She picked up the black feather he'd provided and began to write, already feeling sick with regret at giving in so easily.

When she had finally signed the letter, Cesare took it from her and had her write her father's name on the envelope that it was to go in. Once she'd finished the two short tasks, he called out for the guards to take Elia away. They retied her wrists once again, pulling her to her feet and walking slowly with their leader out the door.

"I'm sure your daddy will be happy to finally hear from you! It's been nearly half a day since you left the carnival." Hearing those words, Elia bit her lip. She had no clever retaliation this time, simply because he mind was trained on the fact that Ezio must be worried sick—she'd been expected back hours ago. Cesare, seeming pleased with this reaction, veered away from the guards and his prisoner as they came to the stairs leading down to her cell.

Elia waited listlessly for the door to her cell be opened. When they had the door open, she walked in, having no energy for resistence. One of the guards needlessly put his foot to her backside and caused her to pitch forward onto her face, eliciting laughter from his comrade. Because she still had her hands tied, Elia rolled onto her back, sitting up with great difficulty.

"Aren't you going to untie me?" She snarled at them, although the anger was forced at this point. She felt weak from both exhaustion and hunger and all she wanted to do was sleep.

"You can do it yourself, assassin. Don't you know how?" Elia winced as the guard slammed the cell door closed, watching them leave.

She sighed and moved herself across the floor so her back pressed into the cool and damp wall. The most she could do at the moment was sleep, and that was the plan she had in her mind. Despite her empty stomach and pain-wracked body, she would sleep.

And until Ezio got here, she would hold on to any information that Cesare wanted, no matter what was done to her.

0000000000

Cesare sealed the letter the assassin's daughter had written, sending it off with a pigeon as soon as one was available. Auditore would get it within the next few hours, and it would prevent him from looking for his daughter or even worrying at all for at least a day or two. That would give Cesare time to pull some information from the girl to use against the assassins.

She put on a strong face, but there was only so much a woman could take before she cracked—even one trained like the assassins were. Cesare's guard would have fun with this one. It wasn't every day that they were able to torture secrets from one of this kind of enemy. Most other enemy soldiers gave up before the real torture even begun and although she was already weak—from hunger, fatigue, or emotional overdrive—she would resist. He'd had assassins in his possession before and although he'd never gotten any vital information from them, they were not quick to die.

Cesare grinned. And he'd never had an assassin this important before—Auditore's daughter!—there was bound to be information she had that none of the other assassins knew.

"Get in here!" He called to the two guards who stood outside his door.

"Yes, sir?" One guard questioned.

"Go give the assassin some water. Food's an option, but I'm sure she can go a few days without it." He then waved his hand to dismiss the men, leaving himself in peace to decide what he wanted to wrestle from the young girl.

Ezio had started worrying hours ago. While he'd expected his daughter to go to the carnival, despite his contradictory orders, he'd hoped she would have had the sense to come home by now. It was well past the middle of the night, and he'd found it hard to sleep. He had sent out a couple of assassins to keep an eye on her, but neither had returned yet. His inability to sleep seemed infectious as well—he'd heard a few of the recruits outside his room.

"Ezio?" The female voice made the master assassin freeze and then whip around, his expression one of relief. The relief was wiped from his face when he saw who stood in the doorway.

"What? Are you not happy to see me?" Claudia asked, walking over to hug her brother. Ezio folded his arms around her in return. He was happy to see his sister, but he was unable to hold back the intense anxiety he felt.

"You sound like her," Was all he said in reply. Claudia kept her hands on his upper arms and stepped away, looking up at Ezio with a small smile.

"I'm sure she's okay, Ezio. You know, she _is_ seventeen, and at that age you'd disappear for a night or two on occasion." Ezio's jaw tensed at that thought, and when he spoke he sounded agitated, "Any boy she stays with won't be able to feel anything below his belt for several weeks, once I finish with him," He growled the words out and moved from his sister's grip. Claudia sighed and shook her head.

"I don't think she'd appreciate that very much, if you scared away all her suitors."

"I don't care. She's too young." Claudia laughed at him.

"Excuse me? You don't set a very good example, and I recall _you_ at _sixteen_ pulling similar stunts. You've gotten the guards called on you more than once for such antics, Ezio," She said, crossing her arms. "And I don't think _she_ will be getting the guards called on her, so there's nothing to worry about."

Ezio opened his mouth to reply, but something behind Claudia caught his attention.

"Come in," He said to a recruit who was hovering outside the doorway.

"A letter for you, maestro," he said, holding it out for Ezio to take. As soon as it was out of his hands, the recruit bowed his head respectfully scurried out the door, nodding to Claudia as well.

Ezio looked at the letter, recognizing the handwriting on the cover of it immediately. The relief he felt showed on his face, because Claudia smiled and crossed her arms.

"I told you, Ezio. Elia cares about you as much as you care about her. You're her father, she wouldn't leave you to worry like that for too long." Ezio broke open the letter, disappointed a slight bit at the short length but relieved that he'd finally heard something from his daughter. He skimmed it, his relief turning into annoyance when he read what she had to say.

"What is it?" Claudia asked him, holding her hand out for the letter. When he finally gave it up and she read it, Ezio's sister laughed.

"Don't you dare get that look on your face, Ezio. What were we just talking about?" Ezio glared at her, looking similar to a child who hadn't gotten his way.

"I don't like that she didn't tell me who she's staying with, so I don't know who to teach a lesson." Ezio grumbled, taking the letter back from her hand. Claudia shook her head, about to speak when Ezio looked more closely at the letter, a frown coming on to his face.

"Is something wrong?" Claudia asked him, concerned at his expression.

"Something about this letter isn't right…her handwriting, it's…different." Claudia carefully took the letter from her brother once more, looking at both Elia's signature and Ezio's name on the letter.

"Ezio, where else could she be? Please, that was her signature and her writing on the envelope, even I know what it look like. You're just being paranoid. I think you need to sleep." When she pointed the signature out, Ezio shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Fine, fine, I'll sleep. But why are you here this late?" Claudia opened her mouth to answer him, but turned when she heard commotion outside, walking outside of her brother's room in time to see the courtesans who had accompanied her to the hideout getting a show of skills by a small group of male recruits.

Ezio came up behind her and looked on for several moments, his expression showing that he felt anything but amused. He refrained from interfering for his sister's sake for several moments, but when one of the recruits, doing a back flip, nearly knocked one of the paintings off the wall he refused to let them make further fools of themselves. Ezio stepped around his sister, walking silently up behind one of the men who was balancing upside down in a one handed hand stand. The recruit yelled out when Ezio grabbed his legs, slapping his other hand down onto the ground to steady himself.

"Are you assassins, or circus monkeys?" the master assassin growled, letting go of the boy and letting him fall to the round with a groan. The rest of the assassins flinched as their comrade slowly got to his feet, his pride more damaged than anything while he slunk quickly off into another room. The rest of the men slowly dissipated, and Claudia had begun to usher her girls out toward the door, going over to her brother and patting him on the cheek affectionately, despite his sour mood.

"Try not to worry, Ezio. She'll come home safe in a day or two. And don't take anything else out on your poor recruits." Ezio frowned, but nodded for Claudia's sake. He gave his sister a warm hug before she turned to leave, thanking her for her console about his daughter. Claudia had almost gone out the door when he suddenly remembered the question he'd asked earlier.

"Claudia, wait!" She turned to look at him when he called out and watched he jogged over to her.

"Why did you come to see me in the first place?" He finally asked his sister.

"Oh! I'd nearly forgotten. A couple of assassins came to the Rosa, they were in poor shape, so they're resting there now. They'll be okay." She smiled and waved to her brother as shed turned, walking out the door with her girls.

Ezio stared after her as she walked off. His mouth hung open slightly, and he couldn't suppress the shiver that slithered down his spine, feeling suddenly cold despite the summer air.

0000000000

"Water!" Crowed one of the guards, dropping a bucket and cup onto the floor of Elia's cell. Elia tried to look nonchalant when she got up to get the water, but the chuckles that came from the guards let her know that her desperation was obvious. She only lifted her head from the cup she'd drained nearly five times when the smell of warm food met her nose. He stomach didn't even growl—it clenched and sent a wave of pain through her midsection that made her nearly double over.

"Hungry?" Asked one of the guards before he took a bite out of some sort of meat that Elia was unable to identify. She didn't care. Her mouth watered simply at the sight of the food and all she could think about was getting something to eat as he stomach snarled with hunger. Food, oh, that sounded wonderful right now.

"Looks like she is. Maybe she'll do some tricks for us, huh?" The words passed over Elia's head as he walked up to the bars of her cell, a leg of meat dangling from one of his hands. Her eyes were glued on the food, although a voice somewhere in the back of her head told her she was simply being teased.

"Want it? Huh? Want some?" The guard spoke as if she were a stray dog begging for scraps. He held the food close to the bars, snatching it away when Elia lunged for it, sticking her arm between the bars of the cell, her fingers closing around air as the guard laughed and walked back to the food him and the other guard was eating. Elia pulled her arm back into the cell, biting back any words she had to say.

_ Go on, beg for it,_ Her mind whispered to her, _They're certain to give you some if you look pathetic enough._ It was hard not to give in to the whisperings in the back of her mind. But the guards would certainly find other ways to torture her with the food they seemed to be eating at an agonizingly slow pace.

Elia finally forced herself to turn her back to the men, slowly sipping water from the bucket she'd been provided until it was completely gone. It distracted her long enough for the men to finish their food and he took a look behind herself to make sure they were done. When they finally got up to leave, Elia forced herself to her feet as well, an idea forming in her mind.

In a move of defiance, she stuck her arm through the wide spaces between the bars of her cell and threw the small wooden cup in her hand at the back of one of the guard's heads. It hit, making her grin and chuckle quietly when he grunted in surprise and put his hand to where a bump was soon to form.

"That's what you get for not wearing a helmet!" She called. The guard walked back over to her cell, glowering down at her smiling face. She leaned on the bars, staring at him, with a smug look plastered on her face.

When his arm shot through the bars of the cell and closed around her neck, Elia let out a pitiful squeak. She grabbed the man's thick wrist in both her hands, going on her toes to prevent being choked.

"You're only useful to us to a certain point, assassin. I wouldn't push my luck, if I were you." The guard said after dangling her for several long moments. Elia had begun to see spots in her vision, desperate only for air at this point. The guard who held her might have choked her to death had the other not thumped him on the back and growled, "Cesare needs her, don't kill the bitch yet." Elia crumpled to the floor when she was finally released, gasping in air as the guards walked off, once again having the last laugh.

_ You're going to burn in hell_. She thought, her mind foggy. When sleep threatened to overcome her, she gave in. Elia didn't have the strength to stay awake—and at this point, she didn't even want to.


	4. Fottuto Idiota!

**A/N: Chapter 4! Here you go, guys. This is gonna be the second to last chapter, I think. And, because it's my birthday and I'm in such a happy mood, I'm going to let YOU decide the end to the story. All you need to do is pick a number and put it in your review: 1 or 2!  
>If I don't update by this Saturday, you'll hear from my sometime after next Thursday, 'cause I've got swim camp.<strong>

**Ok, now to talk about the chapter! This one was tweaked a lot, and I think I'm happy with it now. I did a little research on Californian Condors...I'm preeeeeetty sure they couldn't be imported back then, but I really wanted a giant, ugly mofo of a bird for Cesare's pet. I mean, doesn't it fit the evil persona pretty well?**

**Also yes, I know Ezio is being a giant idiot, but I think it's more fun to have him panic and beat himself up. Oooor...maybe that's just me that likes to be mean to my characters.  
>Anyway, thanks for reading! Please please please review! It's up to you guys to help me decide how I want to end the story, so, if I don't get enough 1's and 2's I might go cry in a corner or something.<br>That would just be _mean_! :P**

**As for the title...I couldn't resist. Sorry!**

**Alright! I'm done! Happy reading, guys! Thanks so much for the support :)**

0000000000

Elia curled up into a ball on the floor of her cell after having been nearly thrown back in. She was openly bleeding from several painful lacerations on various parts of her body and was quite certain that she'd broken more bones. Her assassin robes had been stripped, leaving her in a pair of now ruined men's trousers and a ripped and bloody linen shirt. The only thing of hers that she had left was a necklace that her father had given her—one that he himself had worn constantly since he'd become an assassin at seventeen.

While she was certain there was no further beating she could get, Elia was also certain there was not much more she could handle before crucial words slipped past her lips. She knew no tremendously important political information, but her constant eavesdropping had given her some idea of the inner workings of the Brotherhood. Not only that, she knew her father well enough that her knowledge could be used as a weapon against him.

Psychological as well as physical torture had been unable to crack her. The most she could do at the moment was rest and remain sane while in this disgusting cellar. Elia forced herself to sit up and nearly passed out as a wave of fiery pain engulfed her ribcage. After several seconds of gasping through her teeth she was able to think of things other than

At least one broken rib, check. Three deep cuts on her stomach, check. Several scratches to her palms and knees, check. Laceration wounds over nearly every part of her body, check. Split lip, check. Bruises over nearly every inch of her body, check. Cuts and scratches all over her shins, sides, check. Three deep lashes on her back, check. Possibly a broken nose, an aching jaw, brutally murdered pride and demolished 'purity' (as her aunt had put it when she was a bit younger), check, check, check, check.

Any and all secrets she knew successfully kept secret…check.

That one, tiny accomplishment was enough to give Elia the strength to rip off her sleeves and bind the worst of the cuts on her left thigh and abdomen. The ones on her back would have to wait. She refused to complete the thought, however. Hope was not something she could afford right now—all she needed was to remain strong and alive for when Ezio came for her. She didn't _hope_ he would, because she knew without a doubt that as soon as he knew where Elia was, he would find her. Even though he had been informed by her own hand that she would not be home for two more days, he would come for her. He would.

That thought managed to get her to her feet and stagger unsteadily toward the barred window at the back of the room for fresh air. The stench down here was beginning to bother her—whether from the smell of death, mold, rot, or herself, Elia was unsure. The slight breeze that carried itself through the opening made her forget any other thought and close her eyes in bliss. This was probably the closest she would get to fresh air for quite some time.

An eagle soared high up above her—she couldn't see it, but she heard its screech.

_You're lucky, my friend…_ She thought. _You're free._

000000000

Cesare pressed a basic seal onto the letter he had just finished, a look of amusement on his face. This was too easy! It was as if Auditore and his daughter were delivering themselves to the Borgia with nooses around their necks. The letter he'd sent two days earlier seemed to do well enough to keep the assassin off his ass, though the time hadn't proved to be very useful. The girl had been beaten severely, but nothing would make her speak. The only words she'd spoken since Cesare had her sign the letter were curse words, directed at him and his guards.

It was no matter. Now, he would simply drag Ezio in with his daughter as bait, removing the only thing that stood in his way of the apple and power. He walked slowly to his window, leaning out of it and whistling loudly to call his pet. The only task left after taking out the assassin was to crush the street scum that he'd picked up along the way, and maybe take care of anyone else who associated themselves with him.

The trainee assassins would be no challenge—they were, after all, just untrained peasants from the streets. Auditore's sister would be no problem, and nor would her courtesans—not that he would take them out. Simply employ them on his side. The rest of the assassins would be no matter. They had not caused him nearly as much trouble as Auditore and there was no need to waste any energy on them as long as they continued to act that way.

Cesare walked away from the window and grabbed the letter he'd written along with a piece of string. He grinned. Pretty soon, the biggest thorn in his side would be completely eliminated, and he would be one step closer to supreme command of all of Italy. With enough work, and the right allies, there was a good chance he'd have the surrounding countries for himself as well.

A flutter of wings broke him from his ambitious thoughts, and he turned to the window.

"Ah, there you are, darling," He purred, striding over to the bird that was now perched on his windowsill. He reached out and stroked her bald head affectionately before holding his arm out for the condor to step onto. He strode slowly back to his desk, pulling a small plate he'd kept on it closer. The bird clacked her beak twice as Cesare pulled a scrap of meat from the small plate, dangling it in front of her beak until she lunged forward and snapped it up.

"Good girl." He crooned, stroking her head once more. He held her in front of his chair and coaxed her forward until she stepped over to it, claws awkwardly gripping the wood while she stared down her owner with beady brown eyes.

"You've got a very special letter to deliver, my dear," Cesare told the bird softly as he bent to tie the letter to her leg. He looked up when his door was thrown open, banging against the wall behind it noisily. Lucrezia marched in, the look on her face making him frown and turn back to his work quickly.

"Was that really necessary?" He sighed, finishing the knot on the string. Lucrezia ignored the question.

"My god, what _is _that?" She gasped, making Cesare's bird squawk and annoyance.

"She's a condor, Lucrezia. I imported her a few months ago. Don't you remember?" He shook his head when she just glared at him with crossed arms. She curled her lip as the animal turned her head and stared at her, muttering in an annoyed tone, "It's ugly,"

"Yes, yes, you think she's ugly, I understand. What do you need?" Cesare crossed his arms, staring at his sister until she finally raised the question she had come to her brother to ask.

"Do we really have the assassin's daughter?" Cesare grinned and uncrossed his arms, getting his bird to step back onto his arm. He was silent while he strode over to the window to let his bird free.

"Find an assassin, and give this to them." He ordered her before flinging his arm out the window. The huge bird took off, the first few flaps of her wings throwing wind back into his face. As soon as she was out of sight, Cesare turned back to his sister and crossed his arms once more, the look of triumph clear on his face.

"We're soon to have both."

0000000000

An assassin recruit balanced on the tip of a small cross situated on the roof of some church. He wasn't sure which, but that didn't really matter to him. All he was concerned with was the wind blew through his hood, nearly tearing it from his head and the fact he had nearly six hours to do whatever the hell he wanted. He looked around at the world below him, feeling like a king hundreds of meters above the rest of the world.

A massive shadow was cast on the ground below and the assassin looked up, eyes widening as he took in the massive bird that soared in the sky above him. He nearly lost his balance and fell to the ground below when the bird with a wingspan nearly twice his height flew and landed on a ledge just below the tip of the roof. .

"What…?" He breathed, sliding from the cross so he stood on more promisingly stable ground. He crept forward, kneeling and gripping the edge of the roof as he peered carefully over it to look more closely at the animal. His heart was already hammering away in his chest from the near-death experience—it only beat faster as the massive animal turned its head up to stare at him, twitching back and forth as it switched eyes.

Without warning, it took off and landed on the roof several feet from the assassin, who scrambled to his feet in alarm. He whipped his sword out of its sheath, thinking he could use it to scare the bird away. He took several warning strikes at the bird in an attempt to scare it off, but he was unsuccessful as the bird only took awkward steps to avoid the strikes.

"Shoo! Get out of here!" He hissed at the animal, wondering why the hell it was bothering him. Did he have some rotten meat in his pockets or something? It was after multiple attempts to scare the bird off that he finally gave up and decided it was better to just walk away. This stupid thing wouldn't follow him!

He'd barely taken three steps when the bird landed right in front of him, demanding all of his attention.

"The hell do you want, you stupid bird!" He growled at it, beginning to draw his sword once more. When the bird shifted back a few steps, flapping its wings unsteadily the recruit finally noticed the paper attached to its leg. He let his sword slide back into its sheath, stepping toward the bird to inspect it.

"What have you got here, you ugly bastard?" He muttered. The bird continued to stare at him with its unsettling eyes as he reached down to untie the twine that bound the letter to its leg. When his fingers touched the string, the bird made a hissing noise and snapped its beak dangerously close to his hand, grazing the skin on two of his fingers.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, whipping his hand back, taking an unsteady step backwards and landing on his butt as the bird snapped at the string around its leg. As soon as it broke and the letter fell, the bird looked at the novice assassin and made a noise that resembled a cat throwing up a hairball through its nose. He stared at it with wide, confused eyes and it took off, blasting wind into the assassin's face. The letter fluttered and then began to slide off the roof with the blasts of wind. It neared the edge when the assassin finally dove for it, half his torso hanging over the edge before he was able to stop himself from sliding any further.

He clambered back onto the roof, flopping down onto his back to slow his breathing as he watched the bird fly off.

_What was that all about?_ He wondered, turning the letter around to see what was scrawled on the front. Upon seeing the words his eyes went wide and he scrambled to his feet, flipping his hood back into place. Something didn't feel right about this, and if signore Audtiore's name was on the envelope, it needed to get to him as soon as possible.

0000000000

"Maestro, there is a letter for you on your desk," the assassin recruit bowed shortly to the master assassin, motioning to the desk Ezio was currently using. It was cluttered with all kinds of letters, papers and several weapons. He looked up from the letter he was reading and removed his feet from the desk. "Thank you, Zita." Was all he said before he waved his hand to dismiss the girl.

After he finished the letter what was in his hands he looked out the window for a moment. The sun was going down; Elia would be returning home soon, he decided. She _should_ be, at least. With a shake of his head he leaned forward and picked up the new letter. It had been about two days since he'd received the letter from his daughter and despite not having her location, he had sent out a few assassins to watch out for her on her return home. He felt bad sending them out again right after a highly successful mission, but they would make sure that she would get home soon and safe. That was Ezio's top priority right now. When they returned home he'd give them a few days off as a reward.

He still had a nagging feeling about the whole situation at the back of his mind, but when he had gone to talk to the two assassins who were in the courtesan's (very through) care, neither had anything suspicious to tell him. All they said was that they had gotten into a rather violent scuffle with a small group of guards toward the end of the night. Ezio didn't buy that it was just a simple fight, but Claudia had persuaded him to let the issue rest and to stop worrying. Ezio shook his head. He stopped speaking his worries, but he refused not to think of Elia—how could he not? She was his daughter after all. It was his job to worry about her.

When Ezio finally began to inspect the letter, he frowned. It had no marking on the outside except for his name. Already this did not match what he had seen from Machiavelli, Leonardo or anyone else he knew well and received messages from regularly. The handwriting was different than he was used to, as well. Perhaps it was a contract from one of La Vulpe's contacts? Ezio sighed.

_Would it kill them to write who the letter was from every now and then?_ He thought, irritated.

His attention was drawn from the letter when he heard loud voices outside in the main room. Wanting to make sure nothing was amiss, Ezio walked to the doorway and looked out. His eyes fell on a small group of recruits surrounding a young man, leaning in to listen to what he had to say. Ezio found himself listening in as well, vaguely interested in the story.

"It was the biggest bird I've ever seen—the wingspan alone was at least three meters!" Ezio smiled, amused, as the assassins who were listening to him leaned in even more and the one in the center spread his arms as wide as they could go.

"I swear, I was flattened to the rooftop when it took off—I think I would have been blown off if it had wanted me to." His eyes were wide, and he waved his arms in exaggerated motions as he spoke.

"What _was_ it?" One of the other recruits asked, the awe in her voice unmistakable. Ezio had turned to go back to his desk at this point, telling himself that he had a few more letters to look through. He could go out once those were finished.

"It looked like a vulture, but if it was, this was the biggest damn vulture I've ever seen." The words made Ezio freeze, an image of a massive black bird with its bald head resting on the arm of Cesare Borgia coming to the front of his mind.

Ezio turned slowly and walked out to the group, all of the assassins turning to look at him. Before any could greet him as they usually did, he spoke with urgency in his voice that he was unable to mask, "What did you say it looked like?"

"A—a vulture, signore." Stammered the boy on the desk. The expression that crossed Ezio's face made more than one of the young assassins look at one another, worried. The master assassin turned and strode quickly back to his desk, scattering papers and more than one small weapon as he looked for the letter he'd put aside, repeating a silent prayer inside his head that what he was thinking was wrong.

Upon finding the letter he broke the non-descript seal on the back of the envelope with his hidden blade, flipping open the flap and tugging out the thin piece of paper within, nearly ripping it in his haste.

_Please no, please no, please no…_ He repeated in his head, staring at the words on the paper.

He began to read, the first few words uninteresting, making his hopes soar until a string of them caught his eyes.

_We have your daughter._

Ezio felt his blood turn to ice as his eyes skipped nervously down to the signature without even reading the rest of the letter. No. No, no, no. This wasn't right. This couldn't be. How could he not have noticed? It all made sense to him now, the handwriting, the scuffle with the guards that his assassins had had, Elia's sudden want for a few days away from home. Already Ezio was slapping himself across the face in his head for being so extraordinarily thick. No matter how much he wished it was not true, the signature below the mocking closing did not lie.

_Cesare Borgia_.

He forced himself to read what parts of the letter he hadn't already, heart hammering in his ribs harder and harder with each passing second. Bits and pieces of the letter slammed themselves against his eyes like fists.

_Come alone. _

_Come alone or she dies._

_Give yourself up to us and she stays alive._

_Attempt rescue, and she dies._

She dies.

Elia _dies_.

Ezio swallowed unsuccessfully, his mouth and throat bone dry. Without any more thought, he raced to grab his sword and belt. He had no time for armor; just his robes and the bare minimum of weaponry. He ran his hand through his hair as he stalked around the room, hunting for his second hidden blade while he muttered curses directed at himself and that Borgia bastard.

"Where the hell did I put it?" He hissed, searching under his cape and shoving a pile of papers out of the way. He finally found it laying on the seat of a chair and pulled it onto his wrist, snatching up his robes from the back of a chair.

A few of the more daring of the assassins were peering into his room, curiosity clear on their face. But Ezio paid them no attention as he pulled his robes on—all that was on his mind was getting to his daughter as fast as he could. He gave up on the belt, leaving it across the back of his chair and simply wore the red velvet sash around his waist. As much as he was focused on getting ready, he couldn't help but glance at the letter as he pulled on his hidden blades. An anger boiling inside of him that was rare to surface as his eyes fell on the signature. Half of the anger was directed at himself, while the other was at that bastard of a man who now had his daughter. How could he not have noticed? How could he have let this happen?

Ezio checked to make sure he was set. He wore the smallest amount of weaponry that he dared and no armor. When he passed by his desk in his agitated pacing, he paused for moment to stare at the letter that occupied a space in the middle of his desk. The anger flared once more and without warning Ezio drove one of his knives several inches through the paper and expensive wood, his face twisted in an expression of cruel rage.

He'd already spent too much time pacing, panicking and preparing—he had to take action. Using his anger as fuel, Ezio took off, scattering several papers and disrupting a messy pile of books as he leapt through a window. Without pausing he ran across the rooftop he landed on, taking a leap that he was barely able to cross to the next.

After waiting for several moments one of the recruits, unable to hold back her curiosity, cautiously trod into the office and wiggled the knife out of the desk. She, as well as the others, wanted to know what had made Ezio act so oddly—what sort of mission had he gotten that made him so emotional, so _angry_?

Her hand went to her mouth when she read the short letter. One of the other assassins walked to read it over her shoulder, shock expressed freely on his face. The final two assassins peeled away from the door, wondering what had shocked their fellows so much. Quietly, after reading the letter, the first murmured what the rest were thinking; "We need to show this to Claudia."

0000000000

Ezio ran. He ran with everything he was able to muster up. He knew he was at least quarter of the way to the Vatican, but it felt like he'd barely taken two steps. Eveery second he took to get to his daughter was one more second she was in danger.

_I'm coming, Elia._ He thought, his adrenaline and rage blocking out anything but the path in front of him and the hammering of his heart.

_And that bastard will pay._


	5. Jump!

**A/N: So, you guys get one more chapter before the last one. Yay! The last chapter woulda been really really long if I hadn't split it up...there'll be two more chapters, so you have that long to pick 1 or 2! So far two is in the lead...what do you guys think about that? ;D**

**There's bits of this one that make me go 'ehhh...' but, I think it's good enough. WELL you guys can REVIEW and let me know, right? I'd super duper appreciate that :)**

**I'm sorry that there's a lack of Cesare getting a massive beating, but with the amount of writing for Assassin's Creed I have on my laptop...I'm sure you'll get something like that eventually!  
>Anyway, thank you for reading! Please please pleaseeee review, I would appreciate it so much! If you find any mistakes I'd love you guys so much if you'd point it out, too. I always like to improve!<strong>

** You guys are awesome :) Enjoy!**

0000000000

Ezio panted through his teeth as he balanced on the top of a tall church. He'd been racing across the city as fast as his legs and arms would carry him up and over buildings, shoving people and guards out of the way without heed. Now that he was halfway to the Vatican, he'd stopped and finally thought through what he was doing.

He had no help, he had no idea what he was getting into and he was without most of his weapons.

"Fuck." He growled, finally beginning to think through his anger and adrenaline rush. Cesare would be expecting him—he'd sent the letter after all.

His first thought was to simply sneak into the castle and rescue his daughter. But he hesitated. Cesare wouldn't dare kill Elia—she was his only bargaining card. She was all he had to hold against Ezio. Right?

But did he want to bet on that? If Elia died because he'd relied on an unpredictable madman doing the predictable—well, Ezio didn't want to think like that.

What would he do, then? What the _hell_ should he do? Almost immediately his brain spat out what should have been the obvious idea.

_Give yourself up, like Borgia requested._ _You can escape. Elia cannot._

Ezio's features hardened and he straightened up, breathing back to normal and a fierce anger pumping through his veins once again. With his arms outstretched he fell forward, landing gracefully in the pile of hay hundreds of meters below himself. After peering out to make sure no guards were nearby, the assassin rolled out of the hay and took off toward the Vatican, resolve fueling him with the strength to continue on at full pelt.

0000000000

Two days.

Elia lay on her back in the cell, too weak to even bother sitting up. Two days, two days, two days. The words echoed inside of her head. Her empty, listless head. All she felt was pain, and any loud noise shot fear like an arrow into her heart. She felt like a rabbit, stuck in a cage and surrounded by ravenous wolves.

She could take no more of this.

_Where is Daddy?_

She didn't even flinch as the door to the prison room banged open, didn't even open her eyes as three guards and one of the more highly decorated Borgia captains pounded in wearing full gear and carrying their weapons high. She didn't bother to make an attempt at comprehending what would cause need for such a large escort.

"Out." Commanded the captain, slamming open the prison door and jerking his head. When she didn't move, he motioned to two of his guards to get her. They picked her up roughly by her upper arms and forced her to walk, prodding her ruthlessly with their swords when she stumbled. When she left the cell, a third guard walked directly behind her, the halberd in his hand making Elia nervous. In fact, all of this made her nervous. _Everything_ was making her nervous these past few days.

Elia was beginning to wake from her daze, aches and pains in her body forcing her mind into action and her eyes to open wide.

Although her mind was thriving with questions, she didn't dare voice her query as to what was going on for fear of getting attacked. The sight of all the weapons at the hips of all of the men surrounding her made her bite her lip with anxiety. Where was she going?

Despite having told herself that she would take anything they threw at her with a straight face, after the first crack of the whip the psychological and physical damage began to take place.

Simply because she had no idea where she was going right now, her hollow stomach twisted in knots of fear. Everything made her jump—loud noises, the scrape of swords as they were pulled from sheaths, the cruel laughter of the guards. Even the echoing of footsteps as the guards came to try and drag information from her made her heart beat faster.

Elia squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, forcing her breathing to calm and her mind to focus on things other than the intense terror that was building inside of her gut. She had to focus. She had to stay strong.

_Where are they taking me? Why am I going this way? _The questions ran through her mind as the small escort proceeded through the castle. Any and all of her questions were answered, however, as soon as their long trek came to an abrupt halt in a bright, open room.

Ezio had been pacing, flipping his hidden blades in and out, clenching his hands and glaring at anyone who came within five meters of himself. He couldn't believe he was doing this, _negotiating _with Cesare Borgia, rather than ripping his black heart out.

The moment the pound of heavily armored feet reached his ears, he stopped moving and his head shot up. His desperation to see his daughter caused a physical pain in his chest, one that he did nothing to fix.

Elia's eyes stretched wide the moment the white assassin robes entered her vision. She sucked in a relieved breath, only to wince and puff it out in pain as her injured ribcage protested in agony.

Ezio's expression changed from apprehension and relief to ferocious anger—all of this could be easily seen by just his suddenly bared teeth.

"Here she is, Ezio! Safe, alive, sound." Cesare's voice took Elia's attention and she turned her head without thinking. The moment her father spoke, however, Elia ignored all else in the room and felt a warm rush of relief that she hadn't felt for days.

"Safe?" Ezio snarled, taking a threatening step toward the man. Despite the frenzy in his voice, Elia was glad to hear it. "You call her _safe_?" He instinctively flicked out one of his hidden blades and took a step toward the Borgia man, raising the hand threateningly.

Loathing radiated from the way he stood, the venom dripping from his voice—every fiber of his being. But the moment he threatened Cesare, Elia felt two swords slide along her neck and cross directly in front of her throat. Fresh blood ran down her neck, soaking into her shirt and the sting of the cuts made her wince. When she felt the sharp point of a halberd digging into her back, she let out a small squeak and froze, barely daring to breathe for fear of gaining another injury.

Ezio was looking at her, hands balled into fists. It was obvious he was having a hard time not just pouncing on Cesare and viciously beating him to a bloody pulp.

"Much better—see, you _can_ teach an old dog new tricks!" Cesare announced to his men, all of which grinned and chuckled. Elia was certain she could see her father's eyes glowing with fury, despite having his hood covering his face.

"You want your daughter back?" Cesare asked, dangling Elia's freedom on a string in front of Ezio's face before snatching it away. "You know what the arrangement is." Ezio glanced between Elia and Cesare, bowing his head for several seconds before he spoke.

"She will be let free?" His voice sounded weary and distant, as if he'd just made a difficult decision. His entire body seemed to have drooped, the tense anger he'd felt before gone almost completely. Elia bit her lip and worry made her heart clench.

"Remove your weapons." Was all Cesare had to reply, the smugness in his voice obvious. Ezio breathed in, then out, and reached for his sword belt. Elia flinched when it fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

What in god's name was he _doing_?

He reached for his left wrist, loosening the hidden blade contained there. Elia gasped and spoke out finally, the fear she felt not fueled by the swords at her neck, but for the exposure her father was putting himself in.

"Papa, no!—" The soft thump the weapon made as it hit the ground followed closely by another made Elia cut off her cry of protest.

"Your daddy isn't going to listen to you, dear!" Cesare laughed, turning his head to grin at the young assassin. Without warning, he pulled out his sword and brought the flat face of it down on the back of the assassin's knees. Ezio grunted in surprise and dropped down onto all fours, teeth ground in frustration at his inability to retaliate. He started to get up, until he felt the point of Cesare's sword digging into the back of his neck.

"You stay here, assassin. She can go." He looked up at his men, nodding. Elia stared at him with wide and frightened eyes, finding it hard to get herself to move. As she stared at Cesare's face, something in his eyes prompted a thought to form in the back of her mind.

_He isn't really going to let me go. He's just playing with us. We're both going to die. _The whispered words sent a shock through her whole body.

As Elia was shoved forward with the butt of the halberd that had just been stabbing into her back, she glanced behind herself quickly, taking a cautious step forward. What should she do? Run? Help her father?

A hiss of pain pulled Elia from her thoughts. Ezio was on the ground, clutching his side and coughing. His hood had been pulled back and ripped in half, so it now hung uselessly on either side of his head. Elia winced when Cesare brought the butt of his sword down on Ezio's spine. The master assassin fell so he lay flat on his stomach, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists but not allowing any further noise pass his lips. Cesare kicked him roughly in his side until he lay on his back, a wicked and evil grin on his face as he ruthlessly beat Ezio into submission.

Cesare lifted his foot and put it on the middle of Ezio's chest, placing a bit of weight on it and leaning down to look at the man's face.

"You know how much fun I'm having, assassin? Lots of it. And it's only going to get better from here." As soon as the last word passed his lips, Cesare began to put more weight onto Ezio's chest. Ezio grabbed the ankle of his boot with both hands in desperation to relieve the pain that was slowly spreading through his torso, but to no avail.

Elia could see specks of blood coloring his lips and how his teeth were clenched in a grimace of pain. She flinched when the pressure Cesare was now putting on Ezio's chest caused several painful sounding snaps. At this point, Ezio could no longer hold back a yell of agony. Cesare lifted his foot and stepped back as Ezio writhed on the floor for several seconds, his face distorted in an expression of pure suffering.

Elia took a step back, her brown eyes wide with fear and her mind still unable to process much thought. Daddy was taking this beating because she had been stupid. Because she had ignored what he said. It was _her fault_.

Elia felt the end of the halberd dig into her spine again and heard annoyed commands to leave from the guards. Something flared up in her—this time, not fear. She spun, grabbing the weapon in both hands and thrusting it back at the guard who held it, driving the sharp, metal end deep into his midsection. He made a choking sound and looked at her with shock—but she didn't wait around long enough to make sure he was dead. She dropped to the ground and did a backward somersault, avoiding the two blades that struck where she had just been.

Pain ripped through her ribs, but the adrenaline now pumping through her allowed her to stagger to her feet without much trouble. She stumbled forward and wrenched the sword from the grip of one of the soldiers before slamming it up through his skull. The third guard was kicked swiftly in the crotch and her fists were brought down on the base of his neck. The crack that came from the blow gave Elia grim satisfaction. _Payback_.

All of this took place within a few seconds. Cesare looked up from Ezio, narrowing his eyes. He barked out an order for the few guards in the area to detain both assassins. While his attention was diverted, Ezio had scrambled to his feet, the pain rapidly becoming less of a concern as he pulled on his hidden blades and drew his sword from his discarded scabbard and belt.

"Run back the way you came, Elia!" He howled, taking a swing at one of the guards that came close to him and successfully impaling him through his chest. His daughter hesitated for a moment before she took off, digging through her memory for the path she had taken earlier.

He tried to wrench the sword free but dropped the attempt when a heavily armed guard lumbered up behind him. Ezio looked up through loose bits of hair that had fallen out of the tie he usually kept it in, taking a step back. The lumbering bag of meat took a swing with his sword at Ezio, who performed a flawless disarming move and impaled the man in the skull with his own weapon.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall," He muttered as he turned and ran after his daughter, the large man making a loud clang as he hit the stone floor.

His hand wrapped around his side where he'd been kicked several times. Ezio was sure he'd broken several ribs from being stepped on—not just because of the snaps, but because running made him wince in pain. Those injuries were going to hurt for a while, so he shoved any thought of them to the back of his head. Despite his pain, the priority now was to keep Elia from harm and get her home safe. Any injuries he sustained while helping her were irrelevant.

He ran out of the room, taking two flights of stairs downward before making a sharp right turn to follow after his daughter. It didn't take him long to catch up to her. She was limping and her breath came out in shallow gasps—she'd reached the stairs that led down to get to the main gate.

"Come on, sweetheart, we're going another way," Ezio said as he came up to his daughter, taking her hand and pulling her back up the stairs she was currently descending. She protested weakly, but Ezio blocked out her cries. They had to keep moving.

"Can you climb?" He asked her as they came to a halt at a crate, balanced against the well. Elia took a shaky breath and nodded, jumping up onto the box and then running up the wall to grip the edge of a deteriorating decoration. She knew where to go, and jumped off the wall onto a wooden platform that hung off the ceiling, waiting for her father to catch up to her. She was just about to jump to a pole (that she seriously doubted she could get to) when heavy footsteps were heard.

"Get down!" Ezio hissed, taking her hand and dragging her to lay down beside him. The platform swung slightly but as the men ran below them, completely oblivious of their whereabouts, Ezio was able to sigh a breath of relief. He stood and helped Elia to her feet, pointing to the wooden beams that ran across the width of the hall.

"Jump across those, and then there's one more wall to climb on the left. Then we just have to take a dive into some hay and we'll be safe. Ok?" Elia nodded, steeling herself to make the jump. As soon as her feet left the platform a shot of icy fear sliced through her stomach. She had no idea if she was going to make it

Pain shot through her arms and shoulders as she gripped the pole, swinging herself to the first wooden beam, hopping across the next three with surprising ease. She crouched down on the last one to catch her breath and wait for her father to join her, watching as he swung and jumped his way towards her.

When he crouched next to her, looking expectant, waiting for her to move, she couldn't hold back the tears that came from her eyes. Ezio's face grew alarmed when he saw she was crying and he grabbed her shoulder.

"Elia, what's wrong?" He asked her urgently, his hands hovering over her shoulders, uncertain if she was in pain.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy. This is all my fault." She whispered. Ezio fought back a wave of relief, glad that it was not pain that was on her mind.

"We'll talk about that later, _tesoro_." He replied. She looked down and moved to stand without replying, making her father frown. He stood as well and, making sure he had a careful hold on her, spun her to face him.

"Elia. I don't care how this happened right now. All I care about is getting you back home and pulling Cesare's intestines out through his eye sockets. Can you focus on that too?" Elia couldn't help but crack a smile at Ezio's words, nodding and then turning to climb up the wall. Ezio gave her a boost when she lost her footing, her heart nearly dropping to her feet. As soon as she disappeared over the edge of the opening, Ezio hauled himself upwards, climbing up over the edge and standing. He reached down and helped Elia to her feet, asking, "Are you okay to walk?" Elia looked uncertain, but took a few limping steps.

"I…I should be fine—" She wobbled, nearly pitching over onto the floor. Her father slipped his arm around her shoulders, supporting her weight and walking forward while muttering, "You're anything but fine, Elia." They slowly made their way up a flight of stairs, Ezio pausing to let his daughter catch her breath now and then while he looked around with his hidden blades ready. He was glad there was a lack of guards, but it concerned him that this was so easy.

The sound of footsteps and echoing voices reached his ears and Ezio looked behind them in time to see the first of what he assumed was going to be many soldiers reaching the foot of the stairs.

"Elia, run to the top—I know you hurt, but just _run_." He let go of her and pressed firmly into her back to get her moving before he yelled profanities at the guards to expel some of his rage. Elia sucked in a breath as pain shot through–well, her entire body, but forced herself to lean against the wall and take the stairs two at a time. She heard yells from the guards and two gunshots from her father, both urging her to run faster.

Not that she was actually able to _run_. She stopped at the top step with her breath coming out in painful gasps, looking out the large opening in front of her to see half of Rome and a very, _very_ long drop down to very solid-looking ground.

"Jump into the hay!" Ezio shouted up to her, the clang of hidden blade against sword ringing in her ears. But she couldn't listen to his order. Her vision blurred when she looked out the opening for more than a few seconds, fear leaping like bile up into her throat. Unable to look down any longer, Elia turned around. The shouts below her got louder, and her eyes widened as she saw that Ezio was now holding back ten well-armored guards. While he was doing well enough, she could see he was in pain and wouldn't be able to hold them off much longer.

"Jump!" He yelled up to her again, making his daughter look down at the huge drop below her once more. She grabbed onto a pillar that supported the arch she stood under as another wave of vertigo-induced nausea was brought on.

_It's so small…_ She thought nervously, even though she had never been fearful of making leaps of faith before. The shouts below her grew louder and her fathers voice rose an octave in desperation, begging her to do as he told her.

"Dammit, Elia, _jump_!"


	6. Save Her

**A/N: You guys are so good and awesome that you get TWO updates in one day :D Albeit they're really far apart...I really like this chapter. I'm having fun showing a more emotional side of Ezio. Kinda like he was back in the beginning of ACII. God, I feel like his MOTHER. We've known the man for, what, nearly 40 years of his life?**

**Now, to say a few things...  
>For BeachVampire17 and IceQueen: I've been thinking about who Elia's mother might be through the whole story. At first, I really wanted it to be one of Ezio's love interests that I liked-either Rosa or Cristina. But then I thought that would be too cliche, and it would be a bit TOO convenient...so I've decided that she was from a random prostitute at the Rosa in Fiore, who probably died giving birth to Elia or just dropped her off and ran. So, if there was someone who was going to be an acting mother, I'd say Claudia and Rosa (Rosa takes over the Rosa in Fiore in 150...3, was it? Which is about when the story is set). Wow. Long answer. Hah xD<strong>

**To IceQueen: Actually, in ACI, if you go behind the main bureau in Masyaf, there's a garden with a looooooot of very scantily clad women in it. Not to mention that at the very beginning of the game for a really short time Altair is followed by a small crowd of these women xD I DIDN'T NOTICE THIS UNTIL RECENTLY EITHER...I thought he was all innocent PFFF. **

**That mental image of Cesare's intestines being pulled out of his eye sockets kinda amuses me now...xD But thank you all for the reviews! ending option number 2 is still in the lead...you can vote again for this chapter and number 5, too, if you want! At first I was rooting for a bad ending, but now that I've kind of grown attached to Elia, I'm not too sure...  
>Also, I'd greatly appreciate any grammar or factual mistakes being pointed out! I actually ran around the inside of the castle and replayed several memories to plan their escape-the bridge section was hardest to do, I think. <strong>

**Now, read, review and ENJOY my lovely and beautiful readers that I love so very much because you're so amazing and full of awesome sauce! Personal and extra special thanks go out to all who have reviewed. You guys are the ones who helped me make this story what it is!**

0000000000

Elia looked back down at the haystack and swallowed the bitter fear that rose like bile in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut and jumped, biting back a yell as she hurtled down toward the ground. As soon as she could breathe properly again, Elia scrambled out of the haystack, looking up to see her father leap up onto the windowsill and then out of it without a moment's hesitation.

"Hey, you!" Yelled a guard, making Elia spin around in alarm. He ran towards her while drawing his sword, and Elia panicked. Where she normally would have performed a disarming move or defended herself, she froze.

"Don't you _dare_ touch my daughter!" Ezio roared, leaping from the haystack behind Elia. He wrapped his arm around her waist and twisted, lifting his hidden blade to block the blow that came hurtling down toward them. The hidden blade slid all the way to the hilt of the weapon before he swiftly kicked the guard in the crotch and dug his weapon into the man's neck. Elia had taken several steps back, still dazed from the close call.

Ezio took off then, his hand wrapped around Elia's wrist. He dragged her along behind him, glancing back when he had to pull her forward once more.

"Elia, run, please!" He begged her.

"I'm trying!" She wheezed, having difficulty breathing with her broken and weakened body. Ezio glanced around, putting his arm around her waist once more and hefting her into his arms to make the going faster. She felt so much lighter than he remembered, and he couldn't help but ask, "Have you been eating?" Elia looked at him, her eyes dull.

"No." She answered simply.

"Those shit-eating bastards," Ezio lifted his lip and what closely resembled a snarl dominated his face. Elia pressed her face into his chest to avoid looking at it.

"We need to jump into the water—" Ezio was cut off as he placed her on her feet, an arrow burying itself in his shoulder. He let out a grunt of pain and whipped around, reaching behind himself to drag it from his skin. He saw several archers on the rooftops next to the wall, drawing back more arrows in preparation to shoot. The bastards couldn't even come out and fight him like real men!

"Jump!" He shouted to his daughter, lifting his arm and flicking out his hidden blade to deal with the guards who were now rushing toward them from both directions of the wall. Elia backed up slowly, eyes wide and heart hammering as her father ran towards a group of guards, yelling out curses at them as he took several down with ease.

While her father fought off the guards, Elia stood at the edge in one of the notches in the wall, looking down at the water far below. Now she didn't just feel fear creeping up her. She felt complete terror, clutching at her heart and making it hard to breathe.

Ezio glanced behind himself at his daughter, becoming desperate to escape these guards and get them both to safety. Why wasn't she jumping? She was the one who had had to convince _him_ to let her make her first leap of faith when she was twelve. Why was she refusing to now?

"_Elia, Jump!_" He bellowed, abandoning his fight with one of the guards and running toward his daughter. Apologizing to her silently in his head, Ezio held out his arms, wrapping them around her and tackling her off the wall, angling them both downward and into the water below. Elia choked back a yell of terror, nearly chewing her tongue off to keep her mouth shut. Her heart pounded in the throat and her eyes leaked tears as they dropped down to the water below.

All thought was wiped form her mind as the cold water enveloped her body. When they hit the water Elia was wrenched from Ezio's grip and she flailed uselessly in the water in an attempt to get to the surface. She opened her eyes and blinked several times to clear water from her eyes while kicking her legs as hard as she could to say afloat. Ezio kicked as hard as he could, surfacing and looking around frantically for her. He heard sputtering breath and splashing off to his right and lifted a hand to wipe his bangs out of his eyes as he turned towards the sound.

"Daddy!" Elia yelled, panic in her voice as she began to sink under. She was weak, she was in intense pain, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold herself up for long. Already her limbs felt like lead and her side was on fire.

"I'm here!" He called back, ignoring the random and sharp pains in his ribs as he picked up his pace. He'd seen the injuries she had—he was lucky she even stayed conscious. Right now was not the time to acknowledge his pain. Ezio swam as fast as he could towards her, snagging her around the waist and flipping onto his back to kick to the bridge that connected the Vatican to the rest of Rome. He held Elia as close to him as he could, simply relieved she was in his arms and not those of the Borgia.

They made it under the bridge, and Ezio had to pause to catch his breath. The shouts of soldiers and pounding of horse hooves made Elia flinch, which made Ezio grind his teeth. He pressed his feet against the inside wall of the bridge and felt around with his hands, grabbing on to the largest handholds he could find to hold them both up. There was no way he could tread water while they waited for the soldiers to pass. Elia clung to the fabric of his robes now, pressing her face into his shoulder.

While Ezio listened for the steady thunder of soldier's feet to end, he became aware of his daughter's violent trembling. Sparing a glance downward, he quickly pressed his lips to the top of her head and murmured, "We'll be home soon, Elia. Just hold on a little bit longer."

Then he would come straight back here and force-feed that Borgia bastard his own lungs. Heat flowed through his limbs as anger gave him temporary strength, various ways of murdering that bastard general running through his mind.

He forced his attention back to the soldiers, listening carefully for their shouts and pounding feet. Finally, it was silent again and only an occasional raised voice caught his attention. Ezio let go of the wall, hugging Elia close to him once more and kicking out until he came level with a stretch of stone that jutted out from the bridge.

"Hold on to the edge, Elia." He ordered her, hauling himself out of the water (regrettably with great difficulty) and reaching down while on his knees to lift his daughter up and on to dry land. He pulled her up against the wall of the bridge and she leaned back gratefully, sliding down the stone to sit on the ground. Elia shut her eyes and hugged herself to fend off the cold that didn't seem to want to go away, still shivering violently and looking tiny in her soaked clothing. Ezio's heart wrenched as he took in how damaged she was. Even though she'd been away for only two days, he could tell easily that she hadn't been fed at all. She looked like she hadn't slept much, either, and her clothes were coated in dirt and dried blood.

Once again his anger for the Borgia flared and he glared up at the massive castle that loomed behind them. If Elia wasn't in such a terrible condition, Ezio would march through the front doors of the castle to shove Cesare's god damn head up his own ass.

"Elia, we need to keep moving, come on, get up…" He finally said while he reached down and lifted her up by her upper arms, shaking her lightly to get her to open her eyes.

"Sleepy…" She muttered, tilting her head down and closing her eyes once more until Ezio shook her more violently. He winced at the tiny groan of pain he heard from her, but shoved his discomfort down as he spoke again.

"No, no you can't sleep. We need to go, _now_." He hissed, walking forward and dragging his daughter with him. Elia protested weakly, until Ezio moved her in such a way that made her ribcage explode with pain. She bent over, nearly sobbing and clutching her father's arm for support. Ezio swore violently and apologized several time to her, regret at causing his daughter pain and rage at the Borgia for doing this to her eating away at his insides.

A sudden shout and the sound of approaching hooves drew his attention from his daughter.

"I'm sorry, baby," He said with regret coloring his voice, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her over his shoulder. Her weak protest of pain made him wince, but he ordered her to hold on to him nonetheless, only moments before he leapt across the water to one of the poles that stuck out half a meter or so. Ezio grunted and tipped forward on the first pole, nearly losing his balance as he let a string of curses fly from his mouth.

"Fuck!" He spat as he finally managed to balance himself and prepare for the next jump, which went more smoothly despite the constant protests coming from his daughter and her weight unbalancing him. He ran across the next stretch of stone and leapt across the two final poles, landing less than smoothly on the wooden dock that clung to the main city walls before dropping Elia to her feet. She was more awake now with pain driving her eyes open—not that Ezio felt any better because of it.

"Can you climb?" Ezio asked, his voice urgent. He was feeling paranoid and continually looked around for any guards—no doubt the Borgia expected them in the immediate area. She nodded with her wide, frightened eyes.

"Then climb!" He ordered, moving her roughly toward the wall and boosting her up as she clumsily clambered over it. She landed roughly on the ground, yelling out in pain—several citizens turned to look at her as she lay on the ground, gasping, pointing and whispering as Ezio landed beside her and coaxed her to her feet.

"Come on, Elia, come on!" He hissed, hoisting her to her feet and pushing her forward. It was only a matter of time before some guards came back this way.

He laid eyes on a horse. Without thought ran over to it and dragged the man who rode upon it to the ground, grunting to the now-shouting rider in response, "Sorry, but I need this a little more than you right now," He hopped up onto the beast and trotted over to Elia.

"Here!" He called, bending over as she forced herself to stand and grabbing her by her waist as she reached up toward him. He grunted as pain shot through his side and chest, but sat her in front of him regardless, keeping one arm tight around her waist as he grabbed the reins of the horse in the other and took off.

"Oi! You! Get back here!" The call of a guard made his heart clench. _No. You will never lay hands on my daughter again, _he thought with conviction, snapping the reins and shouting at the horse to run faster. He stole a glance behind himself and saw three guards, dressed in full armor and gaining closely behind him on their horses. He swore violently as he dodged and leapt over obstacles, glancing down at Elia every few moments. He took random sharp turns in an attempt to throw off the men who chased them, letting loose many colorful words as they only followed more closely behind.

They were getting nearer and nearer to Tiber Island, the time seeming to fly by as fast as he forced his horse to gallop. How much longer would his daughter be able to hold out?

"Elia? When I say three, we're going to jump off the horse and into the water, okay? Can you do that for me?" Ezio asked his daughter urgently, looking over her head and steering the horse in the direction of the headquarters as they neared the water that surrounded the island.

"I—I can try." She said, words barely above a whisper. Ezio prayed to o a god he didn't even believe in that she would make the jump. His strength was fading as well as her own, and while he was certain he could help her jump off the horse, he didn't know if he'd jump far enough to get them both safely into the water.

"One…" He began to get to his feet on the horse's back, eyes locked on the pathway ahead of them. The edge of the water was approaching rapidly.

"Two…" Elia sucked in a deep breath, wincing as her ribs creaked. She forced her tired and worn out limbs to do as they were told, balancing as well as she could on the back of the horse and gripping its mane tightly in both hands.

"Three!" She leapt forward, while her father leapt slightly to the left, both making loud splashes in the water. Ezio swam to his daughter the moment he came to the surface, panic making him near hysterical when he didn't see her right away. Bubbles surfaced in the otherwise calm water and Ezio dove to retrieve his daughter, praying that she would be conscious.

She was unconscious—whether from pain when she hit the water, or simply from exhaustion, Ezio was not sure. But he held her close to himself, against one of the legs of a wooden dock as the guards who had been riding on horseback thundered by. He did not dare to breathe until their shouting had ceased and calm once again enveloped the area.

He then awkwardly kicked and swam his way over to the wall of the impressive building that lay before him, feeling his legs and arms grow more and more like lead by the second.

His breathing was ragged as he approached the underwater entrance to the assassin hideout but he took as deep a breath as his body allowed to swim under the small niche in the wall, kicking out his feet until they met with steps. He dragged himself and his daughter up them and finally, on dry land at last, collapsed with his arms still around her. The noise brought several of the novice assassins to the room and Ezio looked up at them, attempting to get to his feet. He was able to get to his knees, but that was as far as his body would allow. He felt his consciousness fading, and with the last of his strength ordered, "Save her."

He was out before he even hit the ground.


	7. Why Her?

**A/N: BAM. 40 reviews! Thank you guys SO MUCH. SO SO MUCH. And, this chapter corresponded to number 2, which won by two...I will say nothing more. Just, enjoy :)**

**Oh, and for Ice Queen: Claudia WAS the leader of the Rosa in Fiore for a while, but at one point she was assaulted by Borgia supporters and either Ezio made her, or she just decided to hand her duties over to another, who happened to be Rosa. It doesn't really go in-depth in the game, which makes me sad because I really liked Rosa :( It's on the wiki, if you check out Claudia's page. I feel like that isn't really the sort of job that Rosa would have taken, though...**

**I really want you guys to tell me what you think of this ending-love it, hate it, think it's just ok? PLEASE let me knooow. I love to read your reviews, it just makes me so happy to know you guys care enough to let me know what you think. IT BRINGS TEARS OF JOY TO MY EYES!**

**Now, read, and...enjoy? :)**

0000000000

_Where… _

_What… _

_Why…?_

Ezio opened his eyes slowly, broken thoughts drifting through his head without purpose or meaning. He was vaguely aware of a pain on the right side of his face and all through the right side of his body. His mind was emptied of all other thought when one word came to the front of his mind.

_Elia._

Ezio shot upright, the pain that seared through his chest and back nothing compared the intense wave of emotion that took over his entire brain.

"Where is Elia?" He demanded, glaring around the room at the men sitting in chairs. One of them stood and carefully, soothingly led Ezio back to his bed, forcing him to sit and saying quietly, "Calm yourself, Ezio, you need rest. Your daughter is sleeping, she's fine." Ezio looked at him for several seconds before defeat crossed his face.

"Fine…" He muttered, sinking back into the bed and letting his head fall back onto the pillows. He looked over when Claudia entered, the stern look on her face causing every man in the room to vacate within seconds. Leonardo was the last to leave, nodding at Ezio before he escaped through the doorway. Even he was not safe from the wrath of Ezio's younger sister.

"You need sleep, Ezio. Let me fix up your wounds and then I don't want you moving from this bed for at least three more days." Ezio opened his mouth to protest, but it was cut off by a yell of pain as his sister began to take the wraps from his side.

She simply continued her work, ignoring his yells (which turned into rather pathetic whimpers after a while) and muttering that he was acting like a novice. When Ezio finally was able to speak without any unwanted sounds coming out, he asked his sister one question that had been burning on his tongue for some time; "How is Elia?"

Claudia looked down at him from where she stood above, cleaning the cut above his eye and re-wrapping his head. "As of right now, she hasn't been awake, but she seems okay." She paused and told Ezio to lean forward so she could work on the arrow wound in his back. Ezio ground his teeth as stabs of pain shot through his ribs, having to wait several seconds before he dared open his mouth to speak.

"So she will be okay?" He asked. Claudia was silent for several moments as she re-cleaned and dressed the wound, finally saying, "As of right now, it seems that she will be. But both of you need to rest for several more days." Claudia handed him a small cup of something strong smelling and warm—Ezio nearly gagged on the first sip, making childish faces as he forced the rest down. "What the hell is this?" He growled, wiping his mouth off and handing the cup back to his sister.

"It'll help you sleep." She replied while gently pushing Ezio back down, pulling the sheets up to his chin. She gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek and stood.

"I'll make sure she's okay, big brother. I love her too, you know." Ezio nodded with closed eyes, already feeling lethargic.

"I trust you, Claudia." He murmured. Her smile faded a bit and she bit her lip as she got up to leave the room, clutching her basket of medical supplies to her chest with worry. She looked back once more at her brother before closing the door.

"I don't know if I trust myself..."

0000000000

Ezio woke once more, feeling much more energetic and rested. He slowly began to sit up until Elia came to mind—then he practically leapt out of his bed, staggering and grabbing onto someone for support. He looked up to see Leonardo, straightening up and apologizing quickly.

"It's okay, Ezio—Claudia says you need to sleep, at least another day of rest." Ezio shook his head stubbornly, mouth set in a hard line.

"I need to see Elia." He said simply, letting go of Leonardo and walking toward the door with noticeable difficulty. Two more men—one an assassin who had previously been a recruit (one of the first, and a very god friend of Ezio's) and the other La Volpe—moved to block Ezio from leaving.

"I'm sorry, Ezio, but your sister set some rules…she's a lot scarier than you." Said the younger assassin, making Ezio scowl.

"I don't care what _rules_ Claudia set, Benito. I need to see her, right now, and I will." He growled, shoving the man out of the way and walking with purpose out of the room. None of the others in the room did anything to stop him at this point—they simply shared worried looks and watched him walk out the door.

"How is she? How is my daughter?" He snarled at anyone who passed him. No one seemed willing to say a word, though. They all turned their heads and gave the assassin a wide berth.

Ezio finally came to Elia's room and threw the door open. He relaxed visibly when he saw her lying on the bed—but something was off, something wasn't right.

She was above the covers for one thing—and the room smelled like fresh flowers from all that were scattered throughout the room. Claudia and two female assassins sat in the room, their faces solemn until their master crashed into the room.

"Maestro! You must go, please, just go!" One of them exclaimed, leaping to her feet and running to push him out the door. Ezio shoved her aside, however, adrenaline making his aches and pains irrelevant. Claudia sat on the edge of the bed farthest from the door, looking at her brother with red eyes and a somber face.

"Elia?" He questioned quietly, approaching his daughter. She was dressed in a simple white dress—but why? Why did this room look so much like one for the deceased?

"No…" Ezio breathed out as he approached his daughter, realization at what could possibly be going on finally hitting him. His blood ran cold, and he ran the last few steps to her bedside.

"No, no no, _no_." He cried, his voice hoarse and panic making his heart beat twice its normal speed.

"She's not…no, she's okay. She's fine, she's alright, nothing's wrong, " He tried to reassure himself over and over. But when he pressed his hand to her white cheek, all he felt was cold.

He looked at Claudia with such an expression of loss and despair that she felt tears prick at the back of her eyes once again. She got up and moved around the bed to kneel beside her brother, pressing her face into his shoulder to hide her own expression of pain at losing her niece.

"I'm sorry, Ezio." She mumbled quietly after lifting her head, her own heart aching for her brother and the young assassin. The words passed right over Ezio's head as he stared, forlorn, into his daughter's calm face. In his head he continued to deny the truth that was so obviously there in front of his face. But when he reached out to take hold of her hand, the freezing cold of her skin sent a shock through him that forced him to recognize the truth. Ezio's heart nearly stopped when he finally accepted that he daughter was no longer alive, the thought of never seeing her full of life again making him choke out a strangled-sounding sob. He bowed his head, one of her hands in both of his and pressed to his lips as tears began to slip down his cheeks.

"Why her?" He asked to no one, his voice hoarse and throat raw. The two assassins in the room looked at one another, both feeling pain for their master's loss. Neither had any reason to remain in the room-this was a vigil that was for their master and his sister only, and so they left as quietly as they could, closing the door behind them and warning all who they passed to leave the room be.

Claudia looked up with fresh tears in her eyes, her shoulders shaking slightly with silent sobs. She placed her hands around Ezio's, squeezing them lightly and remaining silent.

"Why her, and not me?" Ezio asked again, his shoulders shaking as his crying became more violent. _Why, why, why?_

He stayed where he was for nearly two full hours, no one moving him from his silent vigil beside her bed. Claudia left him alone after the first hour, keeping everyone free from the room to give her brother peace and privacy. When Ezio finally decided it was time for him to move he rose to his feet, muscles sore and stiff and his face still streaked with long-dried tears. He didn't try to speak above a whisper, but he knew that if he did his voice would fail.

"Requiescat en pace, my darling," He murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. He turned to leave, his legs suddenly unable to support his weight. He leaned on the wall of the room for support, looking up with a dead expression as Claudia approached him and slipped an arm around his waist, directing him back to his room to sleep. Ezio felt hollow inside as he moved to his own bed, numbness making it difficult to even shuffle his feet. As he lay back down in his bed, more tears escaped from his eyes and five words were pounding around inside of his brain with enough intensity to give him a physical pain.

_Why her, and not me?_


	8. No One Else

**A/N: **

**EDIT: For those of you who are confused, this is like an alternate ending to the fic. Or maybe the previous chapter was a very, very bad dream while Ezio was unconscious Either way, this is really not connected to the previous chapter at all. Hope this clears things up!**

**Well, I have a lot to say in this one, because sadly, this is the last chapter for this story :( I had SO much fun writing it for you guys, and once again I'd like to thank everyone for reading and reviewing. You made this entire thing possible!  
>In fact, had this story not gotten so much attention, this chapter wouldn't even exist...it was because I spent so much time writing and re-writing things that I became VERY attached to Elia. Her death was the original ending - hence the title of the story being "Why Her?"<br>Because of my attachment, this also means that this will be the 'canon' ending, if I can even use that word. Expect more stories with Elia, for sure. I actually have a little one-shot in the making right now...  
>I apologize for the chapter being so short, though. I had a little difficulty getting the words down on the (computer) page. I shouldn't take such long breaks from writing! <strong>

**Now, regarding last chapter, while Ezio WAS prone to act out in anger when his family/close friends were insulted, I decided that the shock of her death would give him sort of an emotional overdrive, so he was really just numb for quite a while after. And the female assassins were kinda bleh imo. I may or may not do some edits on that chapter. Leaning towards may not, simply because I'm beginning to be very busy and am finding it hard to write every day. Which is why this chapter took so long, but also because I had problems deciding how to go about it.**

**I really want to hear what you guys have to say about both endings, which one you liked better and such things.**

**Also, Elia is an Italian name :) I did a heavy amount of name-hunting to find it, and it struck me because it was very similar to Ezio's (four letters, E and an i, names in italian often end in a for the feminine and o for the masculine...) and it just sounded nice. I'm not sure how related to the time period it is, however, since it's hard to find that information about names...if anyone knows, please let me know! :)**

**Once again thank you everyone for your support! I really appreciate the thoughtful reviews many of you left, and I really hope that you'll stick around or at least check back for other stories with Elia and Ezio! You are all wonderful 3 Enjoy!**

_P.S.: tesoro means darling in italian, and il mio means my. I don't LIKE to use italian when I write assassin's creed fics, but it just seemed like such a sweet little thing to say that I couldn't help it :)_

0000000000

Ezio's eyes opened slowly—he had a moment of panic when he was unable to see out of one, but when he reached up and felt the fabric covering his right eye he relaxed. He must have cut himself somewhere on that side of his face. He felt a dull ache in his chest and side, but fatigue was far from him mind.

_I wonder how Elia is…_ he thought, his mind foggy.

"Elia!" Ezio exclaimed, shooting straight up in his bed and looking around the room. There were several assassins, as well as Leonardo in the room. The latter leapt from his seat when Ezio woke. He took his friend's shoulder, a broad grin on his face as he spoke, "It's good to see you're okay, my friend." He paused, his grin drooping a bit before adding, "But, you really should rest. You can see your daughter once—"

"No." Ezio said bluntly, looking at Leonardo and moving his hand. The artist looked surprised, taking a step back as Ezio got up, throwing the sheets from himself and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Ezio, no. You need to rest." Growled another man from across the room. It was one of the first recruits who had joined him, one of the few he'd formed a close friendship with since he began to guild. Benito was his name. Ezio frowned at him and stood, wobbling a bit on his feet before he was able to get used to using his legs again.

"I don't! What I _need_ is to see my _daughter_." He said the last word with an authority that made the younger man clamp his mouth shut. His displeased expression stayed in place, however, as Ezio stiffly made his way to the door of the room. Leonardo grabbed his arm before he went out, looking serious as he said, "There is not much left we can do for her, Ezio."

Ezio felt a rush of cold take over his body, dread like a cannonball in his stomach.

"What…what is that supposed to mean?" He asked, gripping the doorframe for support.

"I'm just saying that you shouldn't get your hopes up. She hasn't woken up yet, while you've been up twice." Leonardo murmured to his friend, gripping his shoulder and looking him in the eye. "Go with caution." Ezio stared at Leonardo as he went back to where he sat before, speaking with the others in the room quietly while sparing glances over at him. He swallowed thickly, anxiety sour in his mouth. When he could take no more, he turned and walked out the door.

Ezio made his way to Elia's room, catching every look of pity and sorrow in the faces of his recruits as he went. It did nothing to calm his growing nerves, simply made him walk faster and breath heavier.

"Ezio!" hearing Claudia's voice gave Ezio a distraction he felt he needed, but did not want.

"Ezio, wait!" His sister ran in front of him, her face lit up.

"I'm going to see Elia, Claudia. Will you move?" Ezio huffed, having to lean on the wall to hold himself up as pain shot through his chest.

"That's just it—she's _awake_, Ezio. Elia's _awake_." Claudia took his hand, pulling him along after he before stopping at the open doorway to Elia's small room. Ezio pulled away from her, limping as quickly as he could over to his daughters bed and falling to his knees when he saw that her eyes were open and she was sitting up in bed. Elia's head had turned as soon as her aunt and father had appeared in the doorway, flinging her arms around Ezio's neck without hesitation as soon as he was close enough, any pain she felt overwhelmed by intense relief and joy.

Ezio wrapped his arms around his daughter, holding her tightly against himself, as if she would disappear if he did not hold on firmly enough.

"I love you, _il mio tesoro_." He told her, finally pulling away and holding her gingerly at an arm's length. His hands moved to hold her face and he leaned in to kiss her on her forehead.

"And I will never let anything bad happen to you ever again." Elia simply smiled at her father, taking his hands in hers and replying a simple, "Thank you, papa."

Elia's hands slipped from Ezio's as she fell back onto her pillows. She looked exhausted and hollow-eyed still, and her face had felt searing when Ezio had touched her face. When she closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her mouth, Ezio looked at Claudia in panic.

Claudia pushed him aside, hurriedly holding a bucket out for the young assassin. Elia waved her aunt off, removing her hand and pressing her lips together firmly as she fought off the urge to vomit.

"What's wrong?" Ezio demanded, looking at his sister while she felt Elia's forehead and smoothed the hair from her eyes.

"She's sick, one of her wounds was infected, but it's healing now. This is just the end of the infection, there's nothing to worry about." She helped Ezio stand, putting an arm around his waist to help him stand while Elia's face relaxed and she took in slow, steady breaths through her mouth.

"You need to go back and rest, Ezio, or else you'll get infected too." Claudia turned him toward the door while he sighed reluctantly and did as he was told.

"Wait! When can I start training again?" Elia's voice was weak, but both assassins heard it. Ezio frowned and Claudia looked up at him, nodding.

"I—I don't know, Elia." He paused and looked down, opening his mouth to speak when Claudia cut in, "Based on your injuries it will take you a few more weeks until you can even walk without support." She looked up at Ezio, "I would wait several more months before she even began light training again, Ezio. She needs to fully heal first, or else we risk her getting injured again." Elia looked upset, her hands curling into fists as she began to protest.

Ezio held up his hand, cutting of her words before they even left her mouth.

"I agree with your aunt, Elia. I don't want you to get injured again because you were impatient to begin training again." He paused, sympathy crossing his face as he added, "I will allow you to do certain tasks, however. Nothing too stressful." The last bit was added when Claudia narrowed her eyes at him. Elia looked like she was about to protest again, but in the end she sank back into her bed, a small sigh escaping her lips.

"Okay…" was all she had to say before her eyes slid shut. Ezio frowned as Claudia directed him out the door, a pang of sadness at seeing his daughter's normally fiery spirit so crushed and small.

"She will be well again sooner than you know it, Ezio." Claudia said, as if she'd read his thoughts. Ezio nodded, focusing most of his concentration on not tripping over his own feet.

"Right now, I'm just happy that she is alive." Ezio said, taking as deep a breath as he could manage without pain. As he was settled into his bed, he looked out the large window in his room, peace settling over him for the first time in days.

"I may not believe in a god, Claudia, but if I did, he is who I would thank for Elia's safety." Claudia smiled down at Ezio, leaning down to kiss his forehead affectionately.

"It was you, big brother. No one else."


End file.
